thoughts from a surgery waiting room

Well....not exactly how I planned to spend my night. Started out as a typical day in my training room. Coffee brewing, the guys turning ESPN on and I try to patch my athletes. But little did I know that the end of my evening, or should I say the beginning, would bring me here.

The surgery waiting room is empty. I am sitting here by myself......typing away, the TV on, phone in hand and waiting for someone to update me. All the lights are off, except in the room. There is a Christmas tree on the second floor that is breaking up the erie darkness.

I can't help but think how many families have sat in my same seat, waiting to hear news of their loved ones. Waiting for doctors to burst out that door and share the good news. Or how many families who sat here, hearing the worst possible news they could have ever imagined.

Its is erie in here. Kind of creeps me out, but hospitals do that in general.

Kind of puts things in perspective. Funny that the first time I have really had to sit by myself is here, in a surgery waiting room. A worried mom calling me on her way and of course, there is some sort of toxic spill on I-25 that is adding a painful 20 mins to her drive.

And as I always say, I am reminded how blessed I really am. How lucky I am to be in this place at this time. I am reminded daily that I am here for a reason. To be the person that holds the hand of a scared athlete being pushed off to unexpected surgery. Or to be the sounding board for another. Despite the frustrations and stress, lack of sleep and everything in between, I am lucky. I get to witness amazing things every day and witness the mysteries of this world and of this human race, bones, muscles, internal organs and each single cell.

"Behind them are three boys kicking a soccer ball on the beach. With effortless skill they coordinate countless muscles and reflexes, engage and disengage perfectly designed joints … all to do one task—move a ball in the sand.

Miracles. Divine miracles.

These are miracles because they are mysteries. Scientifically explainable? Yes. Reproducible? To a degree.

But still they are mysteries. Events that stretch beyond our understanding and find their origins in another realm. They are every bit as divine as divided seas, walking cripples, and empty tombs.

And they are as much a reminder of God’s presence as were the walking lame, fleeing demons, and silenced storms. They are miracles. They are signs. They are testimonies. They are instantaneous incarnations. They remind us of the same truth: The unseen is now visible. The distant has drawn near. His Majesty has come to be seen. And he is in the most common of earth’s corners." Max Lucado